Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

 Food was a precious resource.

Xander had discovered pretty quickly that real space travel was nothing like Star Trek, and they couldn't just “replicate” whatever they wanted. He couldn't even get a bad cup of tea and complain of how he never could get the hang of Thursdays. Pity.

So he hoarded protein bars and vitamin sludge like his life depended on it – because it did – and looked forward to every time they landed planetside and got to eat  anything  else.

Anything  except  what was sitting in front of him right now.

“What. Is. That?”

Riddick looked up from his own bowl of the almost pitch black sludge, spoon in his mouth. On anyone else it would have been hilarious. On Riddick the spoon in mouth thing still made him look like he was going to tear out your spleen, if he had the chance. “Food.”

“Are you sure? Because I’m pretty sure this is tar.” Xander poked at his bowl with his spoon, and yelped when it actually wobbled. “Or something alive!”

“Eat it.” He ordered, seeming completely unphased by Xander's protests.

“You know, sometimes you're just a little too cocky about the fact that you're King Shit around here.” Xander pointed at him with his spoon, and flushed when the other glowered right back. He wasn't sure which was more intimidating, when Riddick's unnatural eyes glowed at him, or when, like now, he glowered at him with those damn goggles that completely obscured any chance he had of reading his expression. “...okay, maybe not too cocky. But still, Riddick, whatever the hell you call this stuff, it isn't really food.”

“You'd prefer protein?” He arched a brow.

“Over this? Yes.” Xander crinkled his nose, and poked at the contents of the bowl again. It was like Jell-o had gained sentience and chose to breed a child with the tar monster thing that had killed Tasha Yar. He never could remember what that thing was called.

“You haven't tried it.”

“Hey, a person doesn't have to taste something to know that they don't want to eat it!” Xander protested. “It smells like death, and it moves like some kind of... I dunno, moving thing!”

“Hm.” Riddick nodded, leaning back in his chair. “Not hungry?”

“Not for this!” He yelped.

Which is, naturally, the moment his stomach chose to growl. Grumbling about his body's very poor timing, Xander squirmed in his seat, and muttered, “Okay, maybe I’m a  little  bit hungry. But I still don't want to eat this stuff, it's disgusting, Riddick. You can have mine.”

“Come here.”

Xander groaned, and stood up, padding towards the other side of the table.

“Bring the bowl.”

He rolled his eyes, and turned around, heading back to his side of the table, and rounded it again, setting the bowl beside the other man's. He still thought that if they were willing to pay for a larger room and to have the food delivered to them, then they should get actually  edible food. He leaned on the edge of the table, and crossed his arms, raising a single eyebrow as he considered Riddick. “Well? The food is here, I’m here... what now?”

Riddick reached up to catch the front of Xander's shirt, and tugged him forward, then unbuckled the teenager's belt, casually.

“What, your solution to me not wanting to eat this sludge is sex? I always knew you were a horny bastard, but hot damn, is your solution to every situation sex?”

He didn't answer, but he  did  tug Xander's pants right down past his knees, so that sort of answered that question anyway. Riddick then set his hands heavy on Xander's hips, and holding him tightly by his hips, he picked him up and set him right on the table. Naturally, Xander squirmed a little and gave a token protest, but for the most part, he rather liked when Riddick sort of just took control and insisted that  now  was the time for sex. What could he say, he was a teenaged boy. His brain turned to sex something like every six seconds. (Or more often, he wasn't really sure, it just seemed like there was a steady stream of “Yay sex!” running through his head, it never really seemed to stop.)

“So, ah...” Xander cleared his throat, squirming a little. “What's the plan now?”

Riddick smirked, and dipped his fingers in the bowl of Xander's food, coating his fingers with the dark stew-like concoction. He licked at the tip of one of his fingers, as though considering the taste, then looked up at him with a devious expression.

“...you're not going to do what I think you're going to do, are you?”

“Depends.”

“...on?”

“On what you think I’m going to do.” Riddick calmly tugged Xander's hips forward a little, so that he was sitting just on the edge of the table, and pressed one of those food-slick fingers into Xander's ass.

Xander bucked, and sucked in a sharp breath, throwing his arms around the other's neck, holding tightly to his shoulders. “Holy  crap , Riddick, give a guy some warning! And yes, goddammit, that was exactly what I expected you to do!”

“Then that was warning,” he said calmly, sinking his finger into him, easily, slicked by the stew.

“Only technically,” he whined, slightly, biting his lower lip hard. But as much as he protested, he was clutching tightly to the other's shoulders, hips rocking into the other's hands as he squirmed. “God, Riddick... okay, so it's useful as – oh!” He gasped when a still very calm faced Riddick squirmed a second finger into him, scissoring and stretching. Slightly breathless, he panted, “As lube, okay, but I still don't wanna eat it...”

Riddick smirked, and slid his fingers out of Xander, actually laughing softly when the other bucked and whined, and scooped up a sizable amount of the stew, using his fingers like a bowl, then slid them right back into Xander.

He sucked in another sharp breath, bucking. “God, Riddick! That feels so weird!”

It did, too. It was slick and sort of  squishy , an almost too warm way of being full, like a sort of mockery of sex, afterwards. It wasn't a bad  feeling, but it was  weird . “Um... not that I mind you doing all of this, or anything, cause... well... gods know I like when you fuck me and all, but... I don't get why you're doing this...”

“No?” He drawled. “I'm teaching you to appreciate any food.”

Xander arched a single brow, suspiciously. “I don't get it.”

He twisted his fingers, and the younger man bucked, clutching even harder at Riddick's shoulders, biting his lower lip, hard. Okay, that  felt good, if Riddick did more of that, he'd be thrilled. And the man did press three fingers deep into him, scissoring as he stretched him, grinning a little diabolically when Xander whimpered and writhed. “You will.”

“W-will I?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Sure,” he groaned, then blinked when Riddick slid his fingers out of him. “Oi. What was that for?”

Riddick simply placed his palm against Xander's chest, and pushed him back so that he was laying on the table. He squirmed, not liking how vulnerable and open it left him, but did as silently ordered. He'd gotten pretty good at doing as silently ordered. Especially when it was a certain man with an unreadable expression doing the ordering. So he lay there for a moment, just feeling sort of stupid, and waited.

He didn't have to wait long, though what he was waiting for he didn't expect.

A hot, wet tongue slid slick against his anus, and he bucked, sucking in a breath sharp enough that he felt sort of dizzy. It was wrong, it was gross, it was the creepiest thing he was pretty sure he and Riddick had ever done together and holy  fuck  he never wanted him to stop, it felt absolutely incredible. “What the hell are you doing, Riddick, and god, never stop...”

That hot tongue slid right into him, like Riddick was fucking him with it, and Xander arched up, keening.

“Riddick!” he cried, breathlessly.

The other man hummed against his skin, and kept working, like he was trying to literally clean all of the stew out of him. It was the most unexpectedly erotic thing Xander was pretty sure he had every experienced –  ever  – and he was having a bit of a hard time keeping still. His hips kept bucking up, despite himself, and he keened, fists clenching and unclenching.

“Hm.” Riddick rumbled against his skin, licking out his ass, and Xander bucked harder, crying out as he came, messily, all over his own sweater.

He slumped back to the table again, limp, and groaned. “Riddick...”

He straightened, leaning over Xander. “Willing to eat now?”

“If it's good enough to eat out of my ass? Oh hell yes.” He held out his hands, face red and sweaty as he panted. “Hand me that bowl.”